A night in the prison
by Baileys 96
Summary: "Don't cry" he whispered, standing a little awkwardly in the entrance of my cell. I came in yesterday because he needed help, tonight he came in to help me because he needed help. A little different to my other stories but here it is. DarylxOC No Slash


**A/N: Hello my lovelies! I know I still have a couple of other stories unfinished but I'm feeling so unmotivated and this idea simply came into my mind. I gave my best trying to put the beautiful images in my head in a written form and I hope I did fairly well... Please R&R! ;)**

"Don't cry" he whispered, standing a little awkwardly in the entrance of my cell. I looked up at him but his eyes were directed to the ground. He had his crossbow thrown over his shoulder and his vest was only barely covering his bare chest. The dark of the night made him feel safer not feeling the need to entirely cover his torso. He didn't know I saw them.

The scars plaguing his back as well as his stomach and chest.

* * *

_Yesterday night, the full-moon hung highly in the sky, having me unable to sleep. Wandering through the dark corridors of the prison, I heard someone continuously shifting violently in his bed._

_I turned and realized the noise came from Daryl's cell. I went over, approaching him carefully. His blankets were tossed to the ground, he laid on his back sweating, throwing his head from side to side. The moonlight was bright enough for me to notice the scars on his body as I went for picking up his blankets and putting them gently back over him._

_I watched his muscular chest rise and fall unregularly and heard him mumbling completely incoherent words and phrases. I was shocked. Never had I thought that this strong man had once been broken. But I guess that's what made him so strong. Falling apart and then gathering up the pieces and putting them back together, gluing them where his scars went along now. _

_He shifted again and my heart skipped a beat as I thought he was awake and staring at me. But he continued thrashing around and groaning and I raised my hand, carefully placing it on his forehead. Immediately he laid still, his groaning stopped, his thrashing stopped and he slowly seemed to relax._

_Whilst stroking his cheek gently I thought about him. Maybe these scars were the reason why he always acted so awkward around people. I never heard him laugh. He smirked or chuckled but I had never heard him laugh. I began to wonder if he was actually able to be happy. Or did he forbid himself being happy?_

_Now that I thought about him a bit more intensely, I noticed just how much attention I had paid him all the time since I know him. He became a very valuable member of our group now, making this new family of mine complete._

_I learnt to trust him in a way I never trusted anyone, without him even trying. Ever since we were at the farm I had the impression Daryl was just someone who desperately needed a big hug but was too shy to dare. He wasn't like his brother. He was in a funny way really adorable to me._

_He stirred again and I noticed I had laid my hand flatly over his eyes and nose. I decided he was calm enough to peacefully sleep now so I stood up and walked back to my cell again._

* * *

He shifted and set his crossbow down leaning it against the wall. I let out a sob and buried my face into my blankets, lone tears escaping my eyes. I didn't want him to see, it'd have made him feel awkward again. I suddenly felt something warm stroke my cheek lightly just the way I did yesterday.

I looked up at him still not seeing his eyes. He crouched down so his face was level with mine and pushed it close to mine, leaving only an inch or two between them. His hot breath tickled my skin as he gently took my face into his large rough hands.

I felt as if he was trying to say something but he seemed to be struggling with words. "What's wrong?" I asked barely audible.

He sighed and turned away again avoiding my gaze. Exhaustion gnawed on my limbs and numbed my whole body but I shifted so I could put myself into a half-sitting position on the bed.

The nights in winter are really cold and especially without heating or fire in the prison, it was almost unbearably freezing. I pulled my blankets even closer to my body and wondered how Daryl could put up with that terrible cold air, only clad in his open vest and ripped jeans-pants. "C'mere…" I said, looking at him invitingly.

His hesitation clearly visible he undoubtedly fought a battle inside his head on whether to sit or not. Apparently I didn't seem to be a big threat to him so he decided to take a seat next to me. I looked at him again, knowing he was aware of the fact that I still wanted an answer.

"I…I knew it was you yesterday night… In my cell…" he mumbled lowly still not looking at me. My breathing stopped and my heart seemed to be wanting to be in someone else's chest.

I saw no sense in keeping it a secret that I saw his scars and decided to tell him:" I saw them". It was only three words. Three words that brought an uncomfortable silence between us, leaving us unknowing of what to say next.

"Having nightmares?"

He nodded shyly.

"Hey. I'm 'ere. Always." I brought a reassuring smile on my face and laid a hand on one of his. It's funny. I mean I came in yesterday because he needed help, tonight he came in to help me because he needed help.


End file.
